


i've got a heart that wants your heart

by schrodingers_zombie



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, its just three scenes of them being gay and (hopefully) cute, my brain is not working to give me tags to use., oh god i forgot about tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schrodingers_zombie/pseuds/schrodingers_zombie
Summary: winter 2014 (first meeting) // summer 2018 (dating) // ????? (apocalypse)
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King
Kudos: 9
Collections: TMA Valentine's Exchange 2021





	i've got a heart that wants your heart

**Author's Note:**

> for kathy @atlas-of-galaxies on tumblr as part of the tma valentine's gift exchange!!!
> 
> i've been having... a time lately so idk if i'm happy with my writing in general right now but i hope this is good and you enjoy it! happy valentines day!!! <3 <3 <3
> 
> title has nothing to do with the fic it's just a line from "know your name" by mary lambert which is cute and gay and on my valentines playlist this year

It’s fucking freezing out here tonight.

That’s all Melanie can think about right now, infinitely glad she didn’t forget to bring gloves this time. Her breath puffs out white as she pulls herself up the chain link fence. Aesthetics be damned. She _hates_ winter.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

Melanie freezes at the unexpected sound, still straddling the fence.

“Uh,” she says.

The person who called out to her is standing a few feet past the fence, but it’s too dark to make out many details. They’re bundled up in a big coat, it looks like, their face obscured by a thick knit scarf as well as the shadows.

“Looking for something?” The person says. “An excuse, maybe?”

The barely-repressed amusement in their voice sounds… weirdly familiar. Melanie can’t quite place why.

“No, I—uh—I was just going to—hold on. Why are _you_ here?” Melanie drops down to the ground. “They don’t have _guards_ here. You’re – you’re trespassing too!” It sounds silly as soon as she says it.

The person snorts in laughter. Seriously, why does that sound so familiar?

“You caught me,” they say. “The gate’s never locked, you know. You could just walk in.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Melanie says, dusting herself off.

The person snorts again.

“Really, though, why _are_ you breaking into a cemetery in the middle of the night? You also hear that rumor of hauntings that’s been going around? Or are you here to mourn at the grave of a long-lost forbidden love?” They pause. “Shit, sorry if it really is the latter. No offense meant.”

“Uh, no,” Melanie says. “The first one. I’m… this sounds so silly, I know, but I’m a… ghost hunter, kind of. I host this youtube show—“

The person claps their hands together. “Ghost Hunt UK! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you before. You’re Melanie King! I am _such a fan_. Are you filming here? Don’t you have, you know, a crew?”

“Just checking it out myself first. Seeing if there’s anything we can use. For some reason, I just couldn’t manage to convince anyone to come with me in sub-zero weather for something that’s probably not even enough of a story to spin into bullshit.”

The person laughs again. “Guess my standards are a lot lower than your crew’s,” they say. “I’ll make content TM out of anything. I’ve got a bit of a podcast? That’s why I’m here, too. Looking for some, uh, _spooktacular_ stories.”

Oh, no _way_. 

“Oh, no way,” Melanie says out loud. “I thought I recognized your voice. Georgie Barker? What the Ghost?”

“You know my podcast?”

“I _love_ your podcast. You made it sound like you were here making some little amateur production! What the Ghost is _big_!”

“Not as big as you,” Georgie says.

Melanie grins.

“We’ve got a lot of overlapping fanbase, you know,” she says. “I found out about your show in the comments of mine. People keep telling me I should collab with you – they’re going to be so upset when we both release episodes on the same haunting around the same time _without_ working together.”

“Unless we don’t,” Georgie says.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess I don’t even know if there’s anything to make an episode out of, right.”

“No!” Georgie laughs again. Okay, that laugh is unmistakable now. And so much cuter in person. “I mean we _could_ collab. If, uh, if you want.”

She pulls something out of her coat pocket and hands it to Melanie. It’s a business card.

“I know you obviously can find me on social media, but a friend of mine gave me these for my birthday and I’ve been _dying_ to use them on someone.” She looks around. “Sorry, ghosts. No pun intended.”

Melanie looks at the card. The podcast’s cat ghost logo is printed in glow-in-the-dark ink. Her heart flutters in her chest.

She grins wider, and extends a hand towards Georgie with an exaggerated curtsy.

“Ms. Barker,” she says. “Shall we go hunt for some ghosts together?”

Georgie takes her hand like they hadn’t just met, like they’re old friends already.

“Why, Ms. King, I’d be _honored_.”

* * *

Melanie stands outside the door, shifting back and forth on her heels. She doesn’t know why she’s still nervous at this point, but some part of her can’t really believe that Georgie still wants her, even after... even after everything.

The door swings open and there Georgie is, dusting flour off her hands, her big bright smile growing wider when she notices the flowers in Melanie’s hands.

“Ooh, and who are those for?”

“Oh, uh, they’re for Mr. Barker? I have an appointment to see him,” Melanie says.

Georgie gasps in mock offense. “Mister? Excuse me, young lady, you will address your superiors with respect!”

“Sorry, of course. The Right Honourable Admiral Cat. My deepest apologies.”

Georgie laughs and leans in for a quick kiss.

“You can find something to put those in,” she says. “I have to keep an eye on — uh, what’s hopefully going to be cookies. The recipe said ‘easy’ but you know that means nothing to me.”

The Admiral winds, purring, around Melanie’s legs as she puts the flowers in a tall glass, and she leans down to scratch his head. “I’m still convinced you’re only bad at cooking because it means other people will have to make you food,” she says.

“Hey, can you blame me? I just think it’s incredibly romantic when someone puts that much time and effort to make something for me that’ll be gone as soon as we’re done with it.”

“Ha, gay.” Melanie comes up to Georgie, who’s staring intently at the oven like she thinks it’ll burst into flames at any moment, and stretches to rest her head on Georgie’s shoulder. “I appreciate the attempt, though. Love a domestic butch. Uh, we’re ordering in dinner though, right?”

“Oh, already done. Don’t worry, no podcast sponsorship meal kits this time.”

They move out of the kitchen, laughing, and arrange themselves in their usual snuggled configuration on the sofa. The Admiral circles them curiously before settling down with a little sigh on Melanie’s lap.

“How’s your leg been?” Georgie asks.

Melanie makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s… fine? Stairs aren’t fun, obviously, but as long as I don’t overdo anything it’s definitely gotten better. The feeling’s the weird part. Like, I keep reaching for something that isn’t there, you know? I expect to be so much angrier about what happened, but then it’s… not there.”

“Yeah,” Georgie says quietly. “And how’s… how’s everything else?”

“I hate that I want to say _normal_ ,” Melanie says. “How did this become normal? Jon and Basira are still gone, but I’m guessing they’re fine, since the world hasn’t been shrouded in eternal darkness yet. Just waiting, really. It’s just a bunch of waiting while Jon runs around getting little bits of knowledge as a treat from his horrible fear entity sugar daddy.”

“Hmm, don’t know if I like that way of describing it,” Georgie groans.

“Am I wrong, though?” Melanie says, then sighs. “There’s something up, I know there is, but we have no idea _what_. I just want there to be something I can _do_ about it.”

“You’re doing what you can,” Georgie says. She takes Melanie’s hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

“I don’t know if I _am_ ,” Melanie says. “What if there’s… sorry, no. This is getting into therapy talk. It’s time for girlfriend talk.”

Georgie wiggles her eyebrows, grinning. “Ooh, girlfriend talk? Sounds fun.”

“Oh, it will be. But, uh, maybe later? Cause I’m pretty sure I smell something burning.”

* * *

After Helen – the monster that calls itself Helen – _Helen_ leaves, Melanie doesn’t need to say anything, just squeezes Georgie’s hand and she understands.

They walk in silence for a while (after reassuring the rest that it’ll be _fine_ , really, she won’t come back, you’ll be safe here, Celia), hand in hand. It’s funny, how they can go what feels like the same direction every time, but they always see entirely different domains. Like the landscape’s warping and shifting around them, like it’s reacting to them. They end up in what looks like the London Underground, moving past train cars full of dirt or fire or people-shaped-things or some terrible squelching noise, until they get to one that’s empty and relatively normal, aside from pitch-black windows and a floor that glistens like an oil slick.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Melanie says abruptly. “Like, I should have known she was a monster, you know? She never tried to hide it. But I still thought we were… friends, somehow.”

Georgie sighs.

“I mean, you know how I feel about that. You can’t expect any of this to be good or friendly. The things getting their power from hurting people for an evil fear deity are going to be, well, _evil_.”

“I did that too, though,” Melanie says. “The only reason you think that’s different is ‘cause you know me and you love me.”

“I do love you,” Georgie says. “But no. You’re _not_ like Helen. You _left_. Even if you needed help.”

Melanie slumps back against the seat.

“No, I know, you’re right. That’s the problem. I thought… I _hoped_ she was like me,” she says.

Georgie wraps an arm around her, and Melanie leans into the embrace with a sigh. Her fingers tap rhythmically on the handle of her cane.

“I thought maybe there was some hope,” Melanie continues after a moment. “Like, there could still be some good in all the bad. A friend out there. And that would mean… a way out was possible, or something? If Helen could be good, everything could. But now… it really is just all going to be like this, right? It _sucks_.”

Georgie laughs slightly, kisses Melanie’s temple.

“You don’t have to convince _me_ , hon. But it is going to be like this for the foreseeable future. You knew that even before Helen showed up. Even if there _is_ a way back, time… who knows how long it will feel like? All we can do is keep going. Do what we can. Help who we can to make it a little less terrible for someone else. That’s already a lot.”

“I just wish it was more,” Melanie says. “And not to sound completely selfish, but I wish it could be less terrible for _us_ , not just the people we rescue. I know we’re starting from the, uh, ‘better’ position, but where’s _our_ relief? I think we deserve a little status upgrade.”

Georgie snorts.

“I’m just saying! When do us prophets get a little break as a treat?” Melanie says, starting to smile.

“Who knows,” Georgie responds. “Maybe someone out there has a horrible fear of really nice… spas or something.”

“Mmm,” Melanie agrees, and snickers.

They’re quiet again for a moment.

“You know, I was—” Georgie starts, then laughs, almost self-consciously. “Before all this, I actually started looking at rings.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Now I know what I’m missing,” Melanie teases.

“Ha. No, I was just thinking… that’s what we’re doing, really, isn’t it? I mean, we didn’t get the whole down-on-one-knee proposal, big fancy wedding with all our friends, suit and tie thing, but we’re… stuck together, you know?”

“How romantic,” Melanie says.

“You know what I mean. If this is the rest of our lives, then it’s the rest of our lives. The conditions aren’t ideal, yeah, but all in all, I’m still with _you_ through it. That’s hope enough for me.”

Melanie reaches up to cradle Georgie’s face, kisses her softly, smiles.

“Okay, yeah. That does make me feel better,” she says. “I love you, Georgie.”

“Love you too,” Georgie responds. “Come on, let’s go. Everyone’s going to start worrying if we’re gone too long.”

“Ugh,” Melanie says jokingly as she takes Georgie’s hand and they start walking back towards the tunnels. “They can wait. Hey, if you want to do the whole marriage thing, I bet they’d be so happy to throw together a little ceremony.”

“Oh, god, no,” Georgie groans with a grin.

“Arun could officiate. Read some poetry.”

“Don’t even joke about that. I’m going to make you go through with it.”

“He could write us another hymn for the occasion! ‘Ode to the Prophets’ Eternal Sapphic Love’.”

“ _Melanie_ …”


End file.
